Klein Centraal - Five star gastronomic cuisine by the railway tracks in Overveen

Posted by Nora K ,
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Now what? 

I’ve scribbled about storms, hail and gales galore and let’s not forget about schlepping cumbersome luggage up and down those dratted stairs, all the while enduring countless stares along the way.  No Pink Sneaker globetrotting sojourn is complete without some type of roadblock or annoyingly inconvenient disruption along the way, with twists and turns and curve balls just an expected part of the course.  So, it oftentimes comes as a complete surprize when hitches and glitches take a holiday from delay and interruption, gifting me a much needed – albeit temporary - reprieve and break.

A Pink Sneaker adventure wouldn't be complete without RAIN!!




So, it therefore seems fittingly appropriate that our last night in Overveen found us fine dining along the tracks of the local railway station, chowing down not on scavenged leftovers and scraps, but on five-star gastronomic cuisine.  Say, what? 

Well, to be perfectly honest, we weren’t exactly shivering outside in the biting cold, but nestled cosily in the quaintest of cafés, our picturesque window seat over-looking said tracks.  Our birds-eye view of the comings and goings of harried passengers darting for the train made for quite the entertaining spectacle, especially when an all-out battle with over-burdened baggage kicked up the drama a notch or two!





Desperate for a café au lait one bitterly frigid and rainy morn, yet later than late and on a marathon sprint to catch my train, I was faced with the prospect of once again boarding without my customary jolt of caffeine.  With not even a second to spare to hightail it to Klein Centraal to grab my much-needed Java, I could only stare longingly out my carriage window at the patrons milling about the conveniently located café.

So close and yet so far from my Java.


Just yet another run of the mill coffee shop strategically situated at the crossroads – or so I mistakenly thought – this non-descript edifice was so much more than just your average café.  Little did I know that it was the talk of the town and home to the most scrumptious of Dutch fare and cuisine.  Reservations were most definitely in order, and you’re so out of luck if you think you and a party of five could just stumble on in on a bustling Friday or Saturday night.




But, if you happen to be the Clueless Duo, you just saunter on in and ask to be seated in the most coveted of locations in restaurant prime real estate, nonchalantly requesting a table with a view!

And, so we dined – or was that gorged? - on escargots and wine on a random Tuesday eve in Overveen, watching the world skedaddle on by.


Come hang out with Travel Bud and I as we inadvertently end up in random pubs and diners on our gastronomic tour of the world.  Whether imbibing in copious amounts of vino or languishing the afternoon away in abandoned railway stations, our adventures were far from dull and mundane  – or, in retrospect, escapades worthy of a chuckle or two – checking off the check list of yummy cuisine!

Check.  Check.

Stay tuned for the continuation of the escapades of cuckoo ol’ Auntie Nora and Sidekick Oz in the Netherlands.


Next post – In three weeks!  - Wednesday, August 17th.  Stay tuned!!


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First night in Overveen with lock-outs, storms, gales and golf-ball sized hail

Posted by Nora K ,
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Do I sense a pattern here?  Have those mischievous Gremlins of Travel Disruption hopped on our tail, trailing us all the way from Brussels?  We had now been driving around the outskirts of the outskirts of Overveen for a little more than an hour, and we were nowhere near our long sought for digs.  It was now approaching dusk, our tummies were grumbling and we were later than late.  Hitches, glitches and calamities of the annoyingly disruptive kind had tripped up this journey from the Get-Go.  What else was in the forecast for the Clueless Duo?  So glad you inquired.  Looming ominously on the horizon was inclement weather, sprinkled with a rush of storms and gales, not to mention wind shear and golf ball sized hail.  Hail?  Just wait.  More on that later…


Somewhere in Overveen...but where?

Starting out in Haarlem enroute to the Outskirts of somewhere

Surely Mr. Taxi Driver could speed it up a notch, consult a map or two and whisk us to our destination.  Was that too much to ask?  Apparently so, for the old chap hadn’t even an inkling as to which direction to take, let alone go right or left or just continue to spin round and round in circles, trapped in an endless cycle of confusion and disorientation.  On the road to somewhere and on the path to nowhere with anticipated arrival at our destination not anytime soon and most likely never!  Should we just jump on out right now and try our luck at pounding the pavement, over-burdened luggage in tow?  On second thought, best to stay dry and snug in our snail paced cab, as we had neither rain boots nor umbrellas and the darkened skies were threatening to unleash a tsunami of a downpour.  Nothing like a deluge of hail to brighten one’s day!  Hail, you say?  Just wait.  More on that later…


Should we bicycle there? Nope. No bike. No helmet. No wheels. No direction.

So, there we stood.  Two drenched rats pounding furiously on the guesthouse door, hoping beyond hope that Miss Landlord will take pity and invite us on in.  We could only hope and pray that our suite was still up for grabs and not rented out in haste to travellers of a more disciplined nature, respectful of check-in and check-out times and who rarely were late.  Yikes!  Looks like the welcome mat had been yanked out from under the gate, as the edifice appeared to be locked down and shut, with nary a flicker of a light in sight.  Now what?

Do we hail a cab?  No can do, as we haven’t a phone!  Do we embark on a quest to search for another hotel?  Like, seriously?  In the middle of the outskirts of nowhere?  Should we hop back on the train to Amsterdam?  A superb idea if one only knew where exactly the station was located.  Even Google and Maps were no help at all, as WIFI was needed to connect to the Net!  And I had absentmindedly forgotten my handy dandy guidebook, which was now collecting cobwebs and dust back home on the shelf.  Useful or what?

Almost there!!  Where??  In the Outskirts....

As luck would have it, whom did we see cycling up the path but the concierge herself, out on a mission to search for the wayward Canucks. The rain had temporarily subsided and so out she ventured, her initial fury at her MIA guests replaced with angst and worry over their disappearance – or was that non-appearance?  And, after explaining about the hurdles and roadblocks that we had encountered on our disastrous journey, with forces beyond our control sabotaging our punctual arrival, our initial misunderstanding now smoothed over and the key to our palatial digs graciously presented.

We're finally here!!  We hope.  Really not sure...

Knock. Knock.  Anybody home?

A celebratory feast was now in order – along with an over-due scrub in the tub – followed with a quick change into dry attire before scooting out for that much anticipated grub.  The closest eatery was a convenient hop, skip and a jump away, so off we scampered, oblivious to the ominous rumblings far off in the distance.

A drop.  And then another!  And, just like clockwork, the floodgates burst open…

SPLAT!  SPLASH!!  DON’T FORGET TO DUCK!!!

Looks like those mischievous gremlins of travel disruption were up to their hilarious ol’ shenanigans yet once again!


Hailstorm!!  Stuck in pizzeria at least until breakfast.  Yikes!

Splish splash in the bath.  Or NOT!  Just jump right into puddles the size of lakes as you dodge gumball sized hail, and slip slide – or was that paddle? – the next couple of metres into the closest pub.  Pity then, that the diner we were headed to was closed down and empty, leaving us stranded yet once again.  NOT singing in the rain.  AGAIN?  Yep, as expected, we were living proof that history does, in fact, repeat itself, oftentimes, more than once!

Next blog – In three weeks - Wednesday, July 27th!!

Stay tuned for the continuation of the escapades of the Clueless Duo.  After all, there are only a limited number of hours that one can remain sequestered in pizzeria waiting out the storm.  Let’s hope they don’t run out of vino!  The saga continues, as does the incessant rain…

Yikes!  They ran out of vino!


Still in pizzeria languishing the evening away

At least we won't go hungry!  Pizza!  Yum!

Will the rain ever end??? And the wind....so much for a focused pic


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Back on track to the outskirts of the outskirts of Overveen

Posted by Nora K ,
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Now that I’m back on track and on the right track, should I just steam roll on ahead and scribble about our escapades in Overveen or should I backtrack to Brussels and pick up where I left off, when I inadvertently jumped ahead a city of two?

Might as well err on the side of caution and journey on ahead to the outskirts of the outskirts of Amsterdam, as since I’m finally on the right train, it would be silly to jump off and start from square one again.  It also wouldn’t be the wisest of moves, considering the scrapes and bruises I’d once again incur when free-falling out the carriage door, overburdened baggage haphazardly tumbling on top of me.  Ouch!  And who knows whether or not I’d even manage to board the correct train, as there’s no guarantee that such an event would ever again in this lifetime occur! 

Wheee!  On the right track!  Or not?


Finally arrive at Amsterdam Centraal and on our way to lost!!



So, there we were.  Two clue-less Canadian globetrotters on a journey to gallivant – or was that schlepp? – our way around the world, meander and discover and, of course, snap selfies of the ridiculously narcissistic kind.  Two polar opposites on a mission to explore and soak up as much of culture and history as one can within a ten-day span.  Whilst one (who, moi?) was content to scamper around town in search of outrageously over-priced satchels at deeply discounted prices, the other was pleased as punch to pound the pavement, pretending to be paparazzi, determined to snag that National Geographic one of a kind pic, a prize worthy of the retirement funded kind.

Next on our list was hipper than cool Amsterdam, over-flowing with a plethora of cafés, museums, age-old edifices and of course, waterways and canals.  Visions of my pink sneaker clad feet pedalling with the locals, cycling my way around town, all the while exuding bucket-loads of cool were clearly not meant to be, as the all too real prospect of toppling head first into said canal quickly nixed that plan from the get-go.  Not a pretty picture.  Guess I’ll just have to ditch the bike and keep my feet firmly planted on the ground!  After all, navigating those oh so treacherous medieval laneways required a certain fortitude and skill, whereas my talents veered off in a completely different direction, finely sharpened and honed to sniff out the latest designer find!







So, here we were.  A pair of clueless Canucks who had left the details of securing accommodation to the very last minute!  Nothing like wondering whether you’ll score a room or not, grappling with the notion that you just might have to bunk with the birds and vagrants, jostling for prime real estate on those highly coveted park benches.  Rationale being, that once in town, we would have ample time in which to scout out a desirable location and pick and choose whether to check into five star digs, rent a houseboat or, if all else failed, slum it on the other side of town.

So, there we were.  Madly surfing the Web the night before, stressed and panicked that in less than twenty four hours we would be left high and dry, homeless and out on the curb, building walls and forts with our luggage and trunks.  Let’s hope that rain was not in the forecast, for flood warnings and tsunamis would surely dampen our spirits and sink our ship.  My limited edition handbags and Versace duds well on their way to drenched and soaked, a sopping mess of calfskin and silk on an unscheduled trip – or was that float? – across the sea.

As luck would have it, we eventually ended up booking quite the spacious “apartment” on a second floor flat in Overveen.  Overveen, you say?  Pray tell, where exactly is that tiny Dutch town located, if you may?  Not like we had any inkling of a clue, but hey, that’s what Google and maps are there for, to help guide us on our way.  But that’s only if you have WIFI and we were stuck in transit with zero access to the Net!  And alas, unfortunately for us, we had neither a mobile with a local SIM nor data on the go.  Needless to say, we needed all of the help we could get!



At least we're somewhere!

Not quite located in the centre of town, nor anywhere within a stone’s throw of Amsterdam, Overveen was approx. 20 kilometres west, a picturesque hamlet situated on the outskirts of Haarlem, more than just a hop, skip and a jump away.  To make matters worse, we had already missed boarding the correct train from Brussels, throwing us way off schedule and on the wrong track.  And, let’s not even mention getting lost in the labyrinth of Amsterdam Centraal, wandering for what felt like hours on end, on an exhausting and unproductive hunt for a pay phone (remember those?) to call hotel and beg them to not give our room away.



Hello? Hello?  And the pay phone is where?

By now we were just more than several hours late and who knows whether or not we will be graciously received at the gate?  Will the welcome mat be pulled out from under our feet or will our newly found digs be bolted, locked and shut?

Will we end up homeless, squawking with the pigeons in the park or will we be slumbering like kings in palatial digs?

Guess you’ll just have to wait for the continuation of our escapades in the outskirts of the outskirts of the outskirts of Overveen.

Part two – In three weeks!  Wednesday, July 6th!  Stay tuned!

Come hang out with the Clueless Duo as we muddle our way around the Netherlands.  Why bother to read maps, board the correct train or even secure accommodation, when one can instead, wing it, live on the edge and end up lost and homeless on a sojourn like none other.  After all, travel is more than just an adventure and a journey on the road to paths yet undiscovered, it is learning and discovering on the go and so much more.  Bonus – certainly makes for great travel tales!




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